Gran and I went shopping today to Marshal and Snelgrove. I felt like a Jack among the Jills, (as bad as parts of T. Eaton’s). We walked down Bond St. to look at some fat curious, up Oxford St, past Duke St, back to the Haymarket, through Piccadilly, on to Trafalgar Square and back to lunch. Gran can still walk, that is a sure thing.
Gran showed me her Guatemala flower paintings and the Blois, Venice and Italian post cards tonight, and is now packed safely into bed. I get tried on tomorrow. Viola is in Arlesford now with Reggie and all her furniture is in the back room here. Reggie’s own chair and the whole outfit.